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The crumpled form of the Cerynei Prince shuddered slightly, optics fluttering under heavy sleep-laden lids. Slender limbs struck out against invisible assailants, steel hooves colliding with the dust veiled earth. Heavy breaths, quickened pulse, soft snorts of alarm.

Something was definitely wrong.

The thick acrid smoke drifted, curling in toxic plumes through his antlers. Basil lurched awake coughing, liquid topaz eyes widened in alarm. He forced himself to his feet, stumbling in the dark. Ahead, an ominous amber glow pierced through his sleepy haze. Fragments of pale light sifted through heavy fog. Fog. No, that wasn’t right. Smoke. In a flash of realization, Basil emitted a resonant bellow. Fire. Fire. He couldn’t form sentences, or even a string of thought. Instincts, etched into his very being, screamed to escape as he fought the urge to flee. Not until everyone else got out. They came first. The herd had to come first. The stag released another baying call, a single note of desperation edging into his voice. Forked hooves danced lightly across the soil, audits swiveling to catch any sound over the rumbling growls of the approaching flame.

Finally. Through the heavy rolls of acrid smoke, figures took shape. Grew larger. The herd. Basil sighed heavily, breaking out into a fit of coughing. When he regained his composure, the other Cerynei were close enough to distinguish. The sight of them made his heart ache. Ribs stood out prominently against ruddy coats, manes lay heavily matted. The had been through so much in the past moon. This fire was taking its toll. Basil brushed against the first few that passed him, their withers damp and clouded with sweat and soot. The Cerynei huddled together, heads lowered. “Go!” He cried, voice strained by the smoke. Frightened, they jostled each other, trying to move forward. “Go!” Basil yelled again, pleading. He launched forward a few steps, head butting one of the Cerynei in the back of the group. He cringed at the contact. No Cerynei ever deliberately hit another, even in play. But it got them moving.

By the break of dawn, the entirety of the valley had succumb to the hungry blaze.

Basil stood atop a knoll with forced bravado. Behind him, the Cerynei herd huddled. Afraid. Hungry. Homeless. Before him, ruins. Smoldering flames still burned in isolated pockets. Ebony nothingness stretching onward. Trees burned black and bare, lonely skeletons that had once provided shelter in the heats of summer, provided fruit in the throes of spring, leaves for the fawns to play amongst in fall, a shield against the winds of winter. All dead. All gone. Basil blinked away his tears, forcing a hardened frown upon his features. He wouldn’t break in front of the herd. Even if they lost their faith in everything else, they must still be able to look upon him as a beacon of light in the darkest of times. His father had told him that when he was little. It had been drilled into his brain, but he, as a foal, had laughed it off. Life had been good then. Peaceful. There had been no need for a beacon. Even as the grass had failed to grow, and the water supply had dwindled, the Cerynei had hope for the future. But now, in the face of all this death and destruction, they truly had nothing.

The tears came heavier now. He down turned his face slightly, staring as the ashy footprints he and the others had made upon their escape. A single silvery tear wound its way down his face, free falling to the earth. It congealed in the ash. And when he turned back to the herd, they could see the tear streak in the ash and dust that had settled upon his face. And they knew. But as he looked to each in turn, he could not see a trace of fear upon their wearied faces. For they had nothing left to of which to be afraid. Basil took in a heavy breath, feeling the cool air run over his burned throat. He had heard a story, handed down by the generations. They all had. Of where they had come from, before settling in the valley.

“Come. There is nothing here for us now.”

Basil moved forward slowly, the herd parting to allow his progress. He could see the fear in their eyes now, in each face around him. Undiluted. Unmasked. The Cerynei were fearful of the unknown. And he was asking them to face the biggest unknown of all. But if they stayed here, remained in the valley, they would surely die. The sterile grounds of their homeland would be the death of them. “Father. Help us. Guide us.” Basil murmured to himself in prayer. With all the confidence he could muster from within, he kept walking. Didn’t stop. Didn’t look back. He moved in silence for a few moments before he heard the soft forked hooves of many Cerynei, moving as one, behind him.

The journey had begun.

The only thing that lay behind them was a burned valley.

Nothing more.

The land lay barren from the wildfire that once again hit the land that the Ceryneis had chosen as their new home. New land to choose was dwindling with each passing move and the Ceryneis were beginning to find themselves backed in to a corner with minimal escape routes, but the route to take was not a mass choice, but the choice of their Prince, and he was feeling even more trapped as all eyes and ears waiting for his move.

Amir looked up at the twinkling stars that scatted themselves like fireflies hitting the night sky. He whimpered and searched for answered within their endless knowledge with his panicked and almost tear stained eyes. If anyone or anything could give him an answer then maybe the stars could.
There was no way he could turn to his father or grandfather, and he could not tell the heard how lost he was since they all turn to him for answers, so he found himself alone, staring up at the stars as the herd slept in a temporary area he had found for them.

“Please, all of you have seen many years, decades, and centuries of problems this earth has faced. You must have also seen the history of our kind from beginning to current. If anyone can give me an answer, a hint, a sign of what I should do then it must be all of you. Please, I have no idea of where I should take this herd now. I’m not even sure there is any place we can go now. Everything we have had his now ashes….I need a sign. I need..help. I cannot do this on my own. ”

The Prince sighed as the stars just continued to shine down on the barren land around him. He could swear they were probably mocking him and the failure of a Prince he had come to be at this moment, but he would not give up. He had to bring his herd to some kind of land. They were counting on him to provide for them, especially the sick, old and young. Time would soon run out and he would not let his herd die out.

Once more he looked up at the stars above him and soon he found himself following a path of stars that shown brighter than the rest in the sky. Their path led to the land towards the west, the land of their cousins, the regular Soquili.

“Surely you can’t expect me to take all of us there, can you?” He asked as he continued to look over the land to the west. “What other choice do I have though? If it is for the best then..we shall head back to the land we left. Maybe it is for the best to step back in history to start anew…”

Soquili Name: Saeran Gennadiy
Temper: Noble
Prompt: You are the Prince of the Cerynei, and the others look to you for guidance and leadership, as they did for your father and grandfather, dating back to the beginning of recorded history. It has become more than evident that the land in which the Cerynei have resided in for decades is decaying, becoming unlivable. The does and bucks are starving and growing weaker with sickness, and they all look to you for the answer. How does this make you feel, being the one in charge? What are your intentions? We know that the Cerynei eventually make their way back into the world of their cousins, the regular Soquili, but how did you come to that conclusion?

Faline slipped slowly into the council, skirting the edges of the contentious assembly, her head lowered as though she had some more dismal news. Saeran watched her progress with a heavy heart while trying to keep order amongst the fractious elders. It was obvious that her news was not going to be good. He sighed.

For years now, the birth rate of the herd had lowered drastically, and there wasn’t enough food to support the herd. The Forest was dying and the cerynei with it. Why did this weight fall onto his shoulders? He had never asked for the responsibility of determining the fate not only of the herd, but possibly the entire race. He dismissed the elders as kindly as he was able, promising to take their suggestions into consideration as he solved their dilemma.

“Please, Faline. Tell me you have some sort of good news.” He asked his oldest friend, trying to keep the whining he felt out of his voice.

Faline flinched, and he knew the news was bleak. “I’m sorry, Sae. Either we stay here and perish, or we…” Her voice cracked as she took a second to calm herself enough to continue. “Or we leave this Forest and go back to the lands of our cousins and hope to find a forest to support us.”

All hope of an easy solution vanished. This land belonged to the cerynei for generations uncounted and would always belong to them. All cerynei felt a deep connection to the forest, and it would be a battle to get them to leave, as leave they must. The burden of leadership had never felt so heavy as it did then. He looked up to dismiss Faline and noticed the same soul-deep anguish he felt. And it reminded him that there were others who would feel the loss just as keenly as he did.

His voice cracked as he relayed his decision, knowing that even though she would not like it, nor would the rest of the herd, she would let all cerynei know of his decision. And when the time came to actually leave, she would be right at his side to support him.

{hope length is ok. yay for last min entries!}

Light flowed over the once teeming pond. The gathering place and site of many a happy, social occasions now held only two things, tears and the remains of the ever diminishing herd. Mostly the young and sick, which was becoming a large majority as a mysterious disease ravaged the forest. Young eyes glanced over the graveyard and he wrinkled his nose at the stench. He had failed them. His father had kept them safe, given them a good life. They flourished. They were happy. But now…now all was lost, it seemed. Innocent babes were dead from starvation because their does could not produce the milk to feed them or the grass was gone and their little tummies would not digest the leaves their terrified and fervent parents tried to feed them in a desperate attempt to save their children. Or the ever sadder take, the young ones left with no parents. And with the strain growing no mother could take in the children, who often disappeared into the forest or lay among their parent’s bodies and withered away. More and more often he was stopped and begged for help by a doe or buck looking for someone to help their baby, their darling child, their only hope. But he could barely feed himself and his doe, let along the others. The leaves found on most of the trees did not sit well in their stomach and to much caused sickness and pain so horrible one would scream. And the grass, gone. A few young bucks tried to go about the violent path and hunt meat! None returned from the hunting trip and it is believed they did not survive.

The Prince sighed and turned from the horrid sight. So many thoughts ran through his head and made it hard to think. He could not delay, could not hope the grass would return, the water would flow once more, the land would be restored. No, this was enough. He moved away from the stink and through the dense trees. He remembered stories he had been told by his mother, stories of a home he never saw in his short time on the land. There were their cousins, those like them but hornless, and closed hoofed. Those who were kind and might open their homes to the small numbers. But so many called this place home, how many would want to go? Many tried to find others, leaving the main forest home to the valley and outer forests, but those who returned brought tales of fire, death, pain. Many of them did not last long after returning. He would have to convince them to leave. Where they would go, should they be rejected, well that frightened him. There were mountains, and places, he was sure, far from their current home or the home of their cousins, but…alas, would his tired herd make it? He knew not nor could he imagine any possibilities.

He entered the clearing that survived as sleeping quarters to most during the harsh times. The sun glittered off the thin forms around him and his heart broke as each hungry and terrified member looked to him, hope shining through. Their hearts were with him, they were hopeless and forlorn, but they believed in him. Should he let them down, he would not survive. But he would fight, he decided, as he looked to each doe and buck. He would fight until he himself was the last. So long as one fawn needed protection, so long as one doe needed food, so long as one buck looked for leadership, he would be there. His eyes hardened with determination and he moved into their mitts. He stopped, surrounded by the last of the once large and proud herd, and looked around. The generations before him had brought them to this glorious home, to numbers never before seen. And now, it was his turn. His turn to bring them back, or die trying. Slowly he opened his mouth and what little talk was gone in an instant, each fawn, doe, and buck waiting with baited breath to hear what their beloved leader would tell them, each looking for comfort and hope.

“We are going back”

A once a vibrant green forest covered the land in front of him, now it was a sorry sight, filled with brown dying or decaying trees, each being eaten away as if from a disease. The air was filled with the putrid scent of death and sickness, followed by the bitter aroma of smoke. Dyami, the prince of the Cerynei looked on with sadness in his hazel eyes at all his sick comrades. All stare at him with eyes glazed over in pain, their torture his own. The weak and the helpless, the strong and the brave; each look toward him for guidance and leadership. Save us, were the unspoken pleas of his people.

The weight of the burden pressed deeply into his muscular shoulders, the fear of failing them held him back. If he was to fail, then the blame would be put on him, and if he was to succeed, then he would be praised. But he did not want their praise. For seeing the Cerynei’s happiness was award enough for the young prince.

Calculating the plan of action of which to take, the prince still had second thoughts, until he looked out over the sickly looks of the Cerynei and the dead woods, did he make his decision. To save the lives of his people, he would lead them away from the Cerynei’s homeland, away from the sickness, away from the forest fires, to a place where they could live happily under his watchful eye.

Only a few would follow the young prince, those that did were lead to the lands of their cousins, while the others refused to leave the shelter of the woods, never minding the danger that was soon approaching the carefree creatures. With his group of Cerynei, the Prince stood tall and never looked back on the decaying wood and the death that lurked under each tree. It was time for new beginnings. And a way to accomplish that is moving to a new land.